


Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye

by JossamBird



Series: Yours, Now and Always. [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (Lets just forget Thugs verse), Alternate Ending, Ambiguous Race Wol, Bard Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kind of veers off Canon to heal my heart, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Post Malone - Goodbyes, Recommended to listen to song, References to Depression, Song is the inspiration for this fic, Spoilers for 5.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JossamBird/pseuds/JossamBird
Summary: Inspired by Goodbyes by Post Malone.Written for after Shadowbringers, the Warrior of Light and Darkness tries to accept their fate, as well as Emet-Selch’s fate.





	Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye

_Italics: WoL/WoD's thoughts_  
  
Post malone - Goodbyes 

** Me and Kurt feel the same  **

** Too much pleasure is pain  **

** My girl spites me in vain  **

** All I do is complain  **

** She needs something to change  **

** Need to take off the e-e-edge  **

**So fuck it all tonight**

Hero. Gods does she hate the word right now, anger flowing through her so freely she was sure she could have scared Nidhogg away. So much anger, so much pain. Making her way to a remote area outside of the Crystariums town, under a canopy of trees, she sat and contemplated her fate, her destiny, her newly reassembled soul. 

** And don't tell me to shut up  **

** When you know you talk too much  **

**But you don't got shit to say (say)**

Her minds drifts, his voice flooding her senses. Dear Gods, she missed his voice, his low, sickly sarcastic and sweet voice. What she would give to have him here, and to speak to her, to no one, to just hear his insufferable and endless drawl. Mocking her, laughing at her, anything. The Ascian could recite the most boring of plays, simply the worst, and she would listen. 

** I want you out of my head  **

** I want you out of my bedroom tonight (bedroom)  **

** There's no way I could save you (save you)  **

** 'Cause I need to be saved too  **

**I'm no good at goodbyes**

Looking at the sky, she lets herself fall to the ground from her seated position, and wonders when it’ll all stop. How long after you’ve lost someone, do they stop haunting every waking thought you have? How long after do they stop appearing in your dreams, caressing or kissing you, scolding you or pleading you to have mercy? How long after, after watching them die in front of you, do you crumble? 

She doesnt know, but she does know that she will learn it, and she will  feel , for years to come, his memory, becoming exactly that, a memory. 

The Famed Hero of Hydaelyn will suffer as the Famed Garlean Emperor did, pieces of their history haunting them, begging for them to bring them back. 

If only... she thinks, if only she could have told him, told him how she felt, how she remembered, how she yearned for it all to stop, for  him to stop. But she couldn't, she didn't. Because he couldn’t, he wouldn’t have stopped. 

** We're both actin' insane  **

** But too stubborn to change  **

** Now I'm drinkin' again  **

** 80 proof in my veins  **

** And my fingertips stained  **

** Looking over the e-e-edge  **

**Don't fuck with me tonight**

Hands full of scars, some new and some old, reach for the bottle of alcohol and bring it to her lips, letting it soak the front of her shirt and chest as she sloppily chugs it down. What was it now, her 4rd bottle since the beginning of the evening? 

She didn’t care. 5 months had passed since that day, and 5 months ago she secretly discovered how truly wonderful alcohol was, helping her to sleep at night, helping her forget that stupid smile. 

Thoughts turned back to the questioning and concerned look of the vendor who she visited too frequently, asking her if she needed anything “harder” tonight, or if she needed help. A laugh came from her lips, harsh and rough, wondering what Hades would have said. 

Hades, or Emet-Selch? Or Solus? Which would he have liked most? He had kept his real Ascian name so guarded, she wondered to which he’d turn, if she called out to him. Would he even turn, or simply wave his hand and walk away? 

** Say you needed this heart, then you got it (got it)  **

** Turns out that it wasn't what you wanted (wanted)  **

** And we wouldn't let go and we lost it  **

** Now I'm a goner  **

The Warrior of Light and Darkness took another long swig of her bottle, turning to her side, finding herself in the fetal position. 

‘Broken’ That's what he had called her. Broken, pitiful, disappointing. How he reveled in her power before, it had made her heart pound, even when he sent sarcastic compliments her way nonetheless. 

But he hadn't been in awe of her, hadn't he? 

He thought her pathetic, unable to hold the light, so excited to see her turn into a Lightwarden, to die. Had it all been an act, on his part? 

Act or not, here she was, no longer living, the pain of their actions, their selfishness making her grow numb. If only she could have reached out to him, if only she had been able to find the path with the least bloodshed. 

But this was it, wasn't it? The path of least bloodshed? His life, instead of all the shards he was willing to decimate for his people, their people. It was the right choice, the right path, but she didn't care, she didn't want it to be. Because now she was alone, she was without the one who could understand her best, the one who’s words she clung to. 

The young woman didn't move as she felt arms wrap around her legs and shoulders, pulling her up, holding her close. ‘ _If only it was you_ ’ she thought, sorrow flowing through her as she realized she should have asked the vendor for the harder stuff. 

“And who were your expecting?” 

** I want you out of my head  **

** I want you out of my bedroom tonight (bedroom)  **

** There's no way I could save you (save you)  **

** 'Cause I need to be saved too  **

**I'm no good at goodbyes**

Trying to turn her head further away, she tried to laugh at the persons stupid question, but she couldn't find in it herself to even indulge the idea of laughing anymore. It wasn't funny, it would never be. She could never tell Tataru with a smile how she had banished the evil from the First. Her journey had been tainted with his presence, his words, his praises and later, lies, she told herself. 

“I-ugh, it doeshent matter, he’sh gone. He didn't care, about nothiiiing _._ ” She slurred, her head facing away from the stranger, pain sparking in her chest for the thousandth time this evening as she wished it were different. 

“Hm. He didn't care? Is that why you're crying, hero?” 

The Warrior didn't even know she was crying. Had she been crying the whole time? What an embarrassment she was, pitiful. She wished whoever was carrying her to leave, leave her be, alone. “H-he... He didn't care!” she yelled, stirring in the mans arms but his hold firm, keeping her in the bridal style hold he had her in. 

“I am pitiful, nothing. He was right, everything he said, him and his stupid voice. I am nothing, I am broken. Even as my soul is nearly one, I feel nothing.” 

Was that too much information for a villager or wandering merchant? He must think her crazy, he would drop her soon and be off, confused and scared. But he didn't, and he didn't stop his trek to the Crystarium, no more words being exchanged. As she saw the tower coming closer, she sobered briefly and decided she would be entering the town alone, even if this kind person had carried her this far. 

“Let me go, I no longer require assistance, kind sir.” 

The body against her tensed briefly, but continued his trek, feeling him chuckle. “Tsk. No worries my lady, I shall see you safe to your chambers.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

Turning ever so slightly towards the stranger, she swung her knee into the air, aiming for the mans face, his arms releasing her out of surprise and letting her tumble to the ground in a hard thud. Hurrying to stand, her blurred vision landed on the man in the black clothing and finally found herself laughing again. 

“No means no, sir. Learn it and respect it, or I shall relieve you of your hands next time, kind act or not.” She bared her teeth, anger that this man, a stranger, intruded on her alone time to drown herself in her tears and alcohol. He simply chuckled, standing there. 

Turning towards the gates, she noticed a being running towards her, too tall for comfort. Was that a Hyur? A Viera with long ears? Angry that she did not have her bow with her, the Warrior prepared her fists, feeling the raw energy of her newly assembled soul flowing through her, tears running down her face as she thought of Ardbert. Of Hades, Emet-Selch, Solus. 

But she couldn't think of the Ascian, she was too angry at him. 

The man behind her was letting off such an air of curiosity and smugness, that she could feel it in the air pricking her skin. “Leave sir. I thank you for you assistance, but I no longer require it.” 

She swore she could hear the stranger mutter under his breath that she would always require his help if she drank this much. 

Wasting not a second, she lunged at the incoming body in front of her, a yelp sounding in the air between them but met with strength, parrying her blow. The Warrior kept on, striking her opponent so swiftly, none could have been able to remark that she was drunk out of her senses. 

“W-Warrior! I do so enjoy a friendly fight, though I am starting to feel as if this is not one!” A woman’s voice? The Hero stopped, her hand (that lingered on the persons arm) woke and felt the soft fur/skin under her palm. 

“Lyna, how good to shee youuuu!” Hugging her, she felt the Vieras confusion, but it quickly turned to comfort as the other woman's arms wrapped around the Hero as well. “Drunk again I see, my friend? With such moves, I had-“ 

The hug turned forceful, the Viera gripping at her back, agitated. Was there a fight behind them? 

“You-! Do not mov-!” 

The sound of air was heard behind her, her arms still wrapped on the Viera, a friend she had become so close to during her time in the First. “Ly-Lyna, if only I could have... i-if only I could have saved him, told h-him! I wouldn’t be feeling like this, so tired.....” The form slumped into Lyna’s arms, the tall woman nearly following her down in surprise. She held on, calling for her guards to come assist her in carrying the Warrior of Darkness to her chambers, and others to check the perimeters of the town. 

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

**I'm no good at goodbyes**

Sheets ruffled around her, fingers reaching for something, anything, but nothing came. She turned, too dazed by sleep to even check where she was. 

“Do you truly think he lied, Warrior?” 

_What a stupid question be asked whilst in a dream. Of course he did, he was an Ascian. Deceit, manipulation. He never cared for her, as she once did he._

A low intake of air was heard, the bed dipping as if someone had seated themselves at her feet. What a strange dream she was having. 

“He never lied to you, you know. He wasn't able to.” The stranger paused, as if weighting their options. 

“And what if you were wrong? What if... hm. What if he learned that he was wrong? What if he felt regret.. at what he said, on many occasions?” 

A laugh sounded out of her, bitter. _He wouldn't. He was so out of her reach, how could he even fathom any semblance of joy, of even affection at her side? All he had wanted was for her to turn into a disastrous beast, and waste away. He didn't want her happiness. And he certainly didn't want happiness with her._

A pressure on her leg, as if someone was massaging it for her, trying to smooth any pains she felt. 

“He did, he longed for you to be whole, to remember... In all his years alone, he wondered when he would find  you. You,  not the broken versions of your soul, but you, the shard he had known.” 

A pause, the hand massaging her other leg, careful of her winces when they touched either cuts or bruises. The hand never wandered, keeping themselves below her knees. 

“But he did find you, and he couldn’t keep himself hidden anymore, he yearned to be close to you. So he followed you, answering your insufferable questions, your gaze lighting him afire when you watched him, but your gaze empty, empty of your memories. And then, you kept remembering things, small trivial things. Then he tested you, telling you cruel things, and you proved him wrong, though he knew not of that fact at the time....You freed him, in the end. Of such a burden he carried, but now you carry it as well. Of a time before all. Of a time where both he and you were friends.” 

_What Amaro shit._

The surprised laugh that sounded out from the person in her dreams held a certain... familiarity? Familiar, and warm. She wasn't sure, she didn't want to have to wake, she wanted to bask in this presence. 

“Such eloquence, my warrior, just as I remembered you. I will pardon you only this once for such unladylike language.” A sigh, loud and heavy sounded out of her dream partner. 

“You will have to pull that head of yours out of the clouds, and into the light your Goddess has so cruelly basked you in. I... You are not a being to be shied away in the Dark, hidden. It never did suit you, before, and naught now. It does not bring me joy to see you waste away like this, deluding your days and nights with wines.” 

The hands left her sheet covered legs, and grabbed her foot that laid uncovered. Skin. Skin to skin. 

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

** Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye  **

**I'm no good at goodbyes**

What she would have given to have felt his skin against hers. He'd always worn those stupid white gloves, seeming so reticent of human touch. Maybe it would have given her flashbacks to a time where the world was so much simpler. 

_A handshake perhaps, or an gentle embrace._

“Only a handshake, my dear hero? After such delicious dreams, hearing the noises you utter during the night for me, I would expect you to yearn for more then a simple handshake.” 

She can hear the smile on his face, his stupid and handsome smile. She smiled in return, laughing lightly with the stranger as the hand squeezed her foot affectionately before letting go and leaving her side, a snap of fingers sounding out. Gods, even his laugh and finger snap sounded like hi- 

Bright eyes shot open, her back straight as a board as she tried to yell out his name, tears running quickly down her face, watching a soft puff of purple mist dissipate into the air. 

“You-! PERVERT! ” She finally yelled, her friends bursting into her room in a hurry moments after to see what the commotion was. She continued to yell profanities into the air, dizziness making her sway as she tried to get out of bed.

Thancred turned to Urianger, confusion evident on his handsome face as they watched the Warrior of Light and Darkness stomp around, falling finally in Yshtola’s arm. “Do you think Lyna was right? I don't understand....” 

Urianger only smiled in response to the Gunbreaker, walking to meet his friend and express how happy he was to see her out of her trance. 

“Trance? What do you mean, trance?” The young Warrior said, unattaching herself from Alisaie who seemed relieved, but the Warriors expression turning to worry. 

“Thou hast been asleep since Lyna has brought thy back to thy chambers, exhausted.” Alphinaud did not miss a beat, following quickly. 

“Thoroughly drunk, might I add! 5 bottles we found here, and Lyna found with another in the field. I did not know you could... hold your alcohol so well, considering. You kept flirting with Urianger and kept telling Lyna about a stranger holding you tight.” 

6 bottles it had been?.... 

Had it all been a dream? She turned towards her bed, looking over at the sheets, no sign of another body having sat with her. 6 bottles, she had lost count. No wonder she hadnt been able to differentiate reality from dreams.... He had never truly been here, had he? She had hallucinated it all. Gods, no, what cruelty had she been inflicted with? 

Noticing her drastic change in mood, Ryne came closer, reaching out to her friend to comfort her. 

“What made you yell out, my friend? Who were you calling a pervert?” Her blue eyes tried to connect with the Warriors, but all could see the stony facade she quickly built, her smile forced and pained. 

“Thank you Ryne, for the concern, and thank you everyone. I am fine, simply a hallucination from my wine.” The Warrior turned away from them, moving to the windows and pushing them open, revealing the beautiful night sky. 

Unease was the feeling everyone felt as they watched her, her hands shaking at her side. Watching their strong friend deteriorate, little by little as time passed after the events of Emet-Selch, of Amaurot, of Hades. They tried supporting her, help her get through the pain they so plainly couldn’t understand, but none reached her. None could understand why she visited the Garleans Emperors magicked recreation of Amaurot, how she had searched nook and cranny, for any signs of the Ascian anywhere. Only to come back, eyes red and her mind exhausted. 

Even the Crystal Exarch, spending his nights and days looking for an answer to help her, to reassure her that the man hadnt disappeared forever. Difficult a task, when all were happy that the Garlean followed them no more. 

“——... I am truly sorry if your hallucinations were of Eme-“ Yshtola started, cut off quickly by Urianger’s stare. 

Turning to her friends, she could not find the energy to force a smile onto her face. The gentle Tsk of Alisaie soft in the air sounded out, her arms coming to hold the Warrior as she slumped forward, trying to overcome the sensation to cry her soul out. 

Multiple arms came around them, holding her in place and offering her kind touches, trying to comfort their friend from her broken heart. 

Urianger lingered behind, the air around her bed disturbing him. His sharp eyes examined her sheets, something amiss in the energy here. He couldn't let her know, he had to be sure before giving his dear friend hope. 

Reaching out, the Elezen found what he was looking for, grabbing it ever so gently, a sigh rolling from his lips as he started to figure out what to do next, after he left the room and searched for the Exarch to reveal this new piece of information, and to confirm that Lyna had been right. 

“Dost this belong to thee?” He called to the group, who still hugged her close. He watched her eyes drift to him, to his hand, and then to the item. 

A single white glove. 

Urianger watched the emotions fly on her face. Disbelief, confusion, understanding, joy and finally, hope. He smiled, simply happy to see her overjoyed at the simple item. He walked over to his friends, and held out the glove to her as she started to cry hard, yelling into the ceiling as she held the glove close. 

“You fiend!” 

——— 

2 week passed. Days and nights passed and the Warrior brightened more each moment that flew by. Urianger would catch glimpses of her as he watched her, either holding a foreign flower to her chest, crafting items for the villagers with the white glove in her back pocket, or playing songs for the children of a town with tall spires and beautiful lights. 

Here she was today, seated with the children, playing her harp, her melodic voice ringing out. One could not attest to the fact that she played wonderfully, attracting a crowd in a matter of moments. Urianger caught her eye as her fingers stroked the strings, his heart beat quickening briefly as she winked at him before turning away. 

Followed her lead, he turned away and headed to the Crystal Exarch to give a report of his mission. 

He did not think Emet-Selch was back to cause havoc again. Everyone could see how plainly obvious it was, their Warrior had been deteriorating onto herself at the loss of him, and Urianger didnt think the Ascian liked it either. If he was anything less of an intelligent man, he would think it merely friendship between the two. 

But he was not. The connection between the two had slowly made itself obvious as time had gone by during their time in the First. The Ascian couldn't keep away, revealing his facts of a city, a world long gone. The Elezen had thought it had been to educate them, but no, it was to educate her. 

How he stuck close to them, following her with his gold gaze, the Ancients hands seemed to want to touch, but never allowing himself to. 

How the Ascian kept complimenting her, congratulating her, as if to lift her weary spirit. 

How he had been disappointed, watching her fight to hold the light, insulting her and telling her how he reveled in her turning to kill her friends, or for them to kill her. His anger at her had left an impression on the Elezen, it had been more then just simple disappointment. The Garlean had seemed to know she could do it, he had believed in her. 

Urianger had sought out Yshtola’s counsel afterwards, wanting her thoughts on the relationship between the Ascian and their friend. She had seemed stunned for a moment, before revealing that she too had been questioning the gazes they gave each other, as if long lost lovers had found each other anew. 

Neither had expected it, to watch the Warrior of the Source fight the Ascian, tears constantly leaking down her face. Her cries had disturbed them, how she notched her arrows and sent them flying, her strength unrelenting, tenfold it seemed. 

And as she watched Thancred attack Hades, Urianger could see the gentle and cruel acceptance inside her that she would not be saving him, she would not be walking out of here with the Garlean following close behind to berate her. 

The Warrior of Darkness. That's what she had become, vanquishing the Lightwardens, and the Ascian. The terrible, and villainous Ascian, who begged her to Remember. Remember them. 

As she had watched him fade, her back to them, unmoving, Urianger could finally see how badly her body shook, her fingers bloody from sending thousands of thousands of arrows she had shot at the person who’s eyes she sought out so often before. 

If the Elezen thought about it for a moment more, captivated by his thoughts, he would have missed the body pressed close to a ledge higher above them. Sharp eyes met equally sharp eyes, and he waited, as if asking a question to the Ascian. Uriangers gaze slowly turning to the Hero and back to the man dressed in black. 

Emet-Selch held a smug smile on his face as he regarded him, but the Elezen could see how the Emperors gaze turned gentle as he laid his eyes upon her from afar, a bouquet of rainbow Lillies of the Valley in his hands, one gloved, and one not. 

A gaze, as if he were looking at a long lost friend, a lover, newly found. 

**Author's Note:**

> Plot Twist: Italics was WoL speaking out loud because she drunk as duck!
> 
> Ah, my feels at the end of this expansion. I watched, I cried, and I defeated, with a broken heart at the end.
> 
> Hopefully not too out of Character. Also, there might be some errors, no beta reader and cant always see my errors.
> 
> Anyone get the reference of the Lillies of the Valley? In my culture, they mean humility, purity. They are the return to happiness, a new happiness. A NEW BEGINNING WINK WINK


End file.
